


Someone You'd Be Good At

by Mosca



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Dogs, Drunk Sex, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-26 16:25:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2658587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mosca/pseuds/Mosca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things to do before Christmas: banish your demons, learn to be nicer, hug a puppy, fall in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Someone You'd Be Good At

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for Jule for Holiday on Ice 2007 and posted it to my LJ in January 2008. Thanks to Sandyk for beta reading and plot bunnying. The title is from "Call It Off" by Tegan & Sara. 
> 
> This fic contains irresponsible drinking, past unhappy Ben Agosto/Merrie Parr and Tanith Belbin/Evan Lysacek, and embarrassingly accurate figure skating technobabble.

Ben is standing behind the boards at the Cup of China gala, picturing Johnny Weir naked. Ben's been in locker rooms, so he knows what guys like Johnny look like with their clothes off: solid muscle packed into a slim frame. Dressed, they give off that illusion of delicacy and grace. A shirt covers up abs you couldn't knock over with a steamroller. That's what Ben is picturing, the fluid precision of muscles, not the blue-lipped dick-floppy mess you'd actually be if you tried to skate naked. It's about the _idea_ of his body.

Ben had thought, one more exhibition program before the finale, Johnny's fun to watch, why not hang around by the boards? And now his brain is going to all these crazy places. The problem is, Johnny's not fun so much as beautiful. There are nonsexual ways to express that, but Ben's having trouble coming up with them.

He tries to put them out of his head. That's what he does with the gay thoughts.

Johnny finishes his program and skates to the boards for some water. Ben's standing right behind Johnny's water bottle. Guarding the water. He weighs the pros and cons of grabbing Johnny by the front of his costume and kissing him, open-mouthed and freezing cold. Maybe the audience would throw stuffed animals. Maybe they'd get deported.

Johnny is doing stars into a crowd-pleasing encore spin. He's holding his necklace in his teeth. His spins are blindingly fast. He'd make a useful kitchen tool.

Ben imagines himself unzipping Johnny's costume. Peeling it down his body, running his hands down Johnny's arms and sides. Somewhere warm, far from the ice. Johnny would sigh when Ben touched his dick. No, that's what a girl would do. What do guys do? It's not like Ben pays attention to his own sex noises. 

They could have sex tonight. Johnny would agree to it, wouldn't he? Ben knows he is far from irresistible, but there's something in the way Johnny looks at him. The way the world is divided into the people you find attractive and the people you don't. Johnny would want to. 

Ben cheers along with the crowd as Johnny takes his second set of bows. He'll probably chicken out.

*

If life were a novel or a movie or something and Johnny were its plucky heroine, he would be lying with his legs over his head, wondering how he got here. But he's nobody's heroine, and he knows exactly how he got here. He won, and there was a medal ceremony and a gala. And then there was nothing interesting to do in Harbin, so there are hotel parties, and the Russians haven't managed to get anything with alcohol in it and they all sound like they're trying really hard to be happy for him when the rest of them have all lost, so he's wound up in Tanith's room, where there are two bottles of China's finest whiskey and some of that Korean soju stuff that tastes like vodka mixed with Equal. They're shaking it with orange juice. Even the whiskey. Tanith is calling it her Shaving Party, and she says Johnny is the first person all night to get the joke. "Evan's not here," he says. "What else would it be?"

"I'm sure he's off somewhere being butch," she says. She hands Johnny a cup of orange juice and whatever. "We're calling this drink an Unintentional Lift."

It's the kind of night where Stéphane is lying on the bed with no shirt on, encouraging people to draw on him with lipstick. 

Ben Agosto comes up to Johnny and asks if, _in theory_ , he were to proposition Johnny for sex, Johnny would _in theory_ say yes. Johnny stares at him for a minute, sipping his Unintentional Lift, which is actually kind of good if he ignores the fact that it's probably toxic. "Not in theory," he says.

"We need ice," that Scottish ice dancer is yelling. "We NEED ICE."

"Do hotels in China have ice machines?" Ben says.

"There was ice before," Johnny says, rattling his cup. 

"Wanna go find the ice machine?" Ben says.

"Is that a theoretical question?" Johnny says. He downs the rest of his drink.

They find Johnny's room before the ice machine, not that they were really looking, and they find a corner to throw their clothes in. Johnny was just going to lie down and do it before he found a stupid question to ask, but Ben says, "You look goofy like that. You should get up."

*

Along the dresser in his hotel room, Johnny has lined up the stuffed animals his fans threw him. A brown bear with a plaid bow tie is holding the free cell phone that won't work in America. All of the smiling Russian cartoon character mouse things are clustered together, and the largest one is wearing Johnny's gold medal. The whole thing looks like avant garde sculpture. Ben wants to take a picture.

He doesn't know what he's waiting for. He's naked in a hotel room in a foreign country. He should have his sad rebound sex and go back to Tanith's party. 

Ben's medal is in his backpack. He's been carrying it around with him all day, not really thinking about it. Which is dumb, because what if he lost it? He takes the medal out. One of Johnny's stuffed animals is a sad-looking wiener dog, and Ben hangs the medal around its neck. Johnny stares at the altered scene for a moment. "Wiener dogs can't dance," he says, taking the medal off. "Pairs. Maybe." He puts the medal on Ben and kisses him. The medal feels cool on Ben's stomach.

Johnny smiles like he's just had a brilliant idea. He puts on his own medal and presses up close to Ben, raking his fingers over Ben's back. The medals clink together. Like they're toasting something. "Goofy?" Johnny says. "Does it look. Goofy."

"In a good way," Ben says. He is kissing, he is getting kissed. Johnny is all tongue and no manners. He's groping Ben's butt. His mouth is soft and his nose is in the way. They're moving, they're tumbling backward, they're on the bed. 

Johnny is squirming under him and handing him a condom. "Are we doing this?" Johnny says. "Let's do this."

*

"I'm sorry," Ben is saying. "Does the lube go in you or on me?" He's stifling his laughter. He must be nervous.

"Either one," Johnny says. "A little of both." He wants to be patient with Ben - his mind is patient - but his body knows it is going to be fucked and it is so ready, he is so ready. Ben's fingers are warm and slick, and the rush of pleasure almost flattens Johnny into the bed. Ben is checking with him to make sure it feels all right, and all right is an understatement. He begs for it and then backtracks: he says, "Gently." Ben is too cautious, but cautious is good, it's sweet. "Okay, not that gentle."

"Okay, hang on." Ben shifts the angle of his hips and leans forward. His medal brushes Johnny's back. Johnny had forgotten they were wearing them, and he laughs. Ben says, "What?"

"Hey, gold medalist," Johnny says. 

"No, but are you good?" Ben says.

"Here, just a little --" Johnny wriggles under him. "Like that."

"Okay," Ben says. He curves down and kisses Johnny's neck.

"No, like _that_ ," Johnny says. "Can you?"

"Yeah," Ben says. "Yeah, I..." He seems to lose his sentence, breath heavy with pleasure. "Do you want me to. . . to, like, touch your dick?"

"If you want," Johnny says. "I mean, don't worry, save it for later, keep doing that."

"Are you sure?"

"Shh," Johnny says. Not because Ben's voice isn't sexy, but because he'd rather hear Ben's breath quicken, feel it on his neck and shoulders. Ben is full and deep inside him, still cautious but on the edge of too hard, a good place to be on the edge of. Each rough glide goes right to Johnny's dick but also stays where it is, trailing into him, knotting up. He knows Ben is close because Ben is moaning softly but intensely, up to a point of release. Ben sinks into Johnny's back. Johnny doesn't want to be done, but you can't fight nature.

Ben gets off of him and throws away the condom. Johnny rolls onto his back. "Still wanna play with my dick?" he says.

"Sure," Ben says.

"Only if you want to," Johnny says.

"You want me to, though," Ben says. He climbs onto the bed. Johnny crawls backward on his elbows so Ben can kneel over him. "Just with my hand?" Ben says.

"Yeah," Johnny says. He doesn't want to wait for anything more complicated. Ben's hand is strong and warm, still a little lube-slick. Johnny gets his hips up into it. He can come fast if he wants to, but there is something almost innocent about a hand job. Also, just generally in everyday life, people should pay more attention to his dick. Being close is good, really good, but coming is better, a hard sweet shock to his system.

He's a sticky, sleepy mess, and yet somehow he is racing Ben to the bathroom. He can't remember how to work the faucet. They are wiping each other down, paying attention to places that can't possibly need it. Letting the washcloth squish on the floor so they can kiss and kiss.

*

"He's in Russia," Ben has to keep explaining. Tanith has come down with a case of very selective amnesia in which she forgets at least once a day that Ben has a reason for not calling Johnny.

"You could send him an e-mail," she says.

"That would be weird," Ben says. 

"It wouldn't be weird," she says. "It would let him know you're thinking of him."

"I'm not sure I want him to know that," Ben says.

"Why not?" Tanith says. "I mean, you _are._ Thinking about him."

"Yeah, you're making sure of that," Ben says.

"Like you wouldn't be anyway," Tanith says.

"Who knows?" Ben says. "There are plenty of other things that could be on my mind."

Tanith shrugs. "All I'm saying is, when you walked back into the party all obvious and stupid, the fires of love burning in your eyes -"

"Lust," Ben says. "They were the fires of lust."

"Whatever they were," she says, "there was something there."

"Maybe it's gone now," Ben says. "Maybe it's, like, he's hit this and now he's over it."

Tanith is silent, tight-lipped - offended. "He isn't that kind of person," she says.

"You would know?" Ben says.

"I would," she says. "He's not - I mean, I'm the one who changed. Not him."

"You don't think he's changed?" Ben says.

"Okay, now you're officially obsessed," Tanith says.

"No, like, you don't think he's calmed down this season?" Ben says.

"I think - I think we've all changed a lot this year," Tanith says. Her lip is trembling, just a touch. Ben tilts her chin up to get her to look at him. She swats his hand away.

"What?" Ben says. "Did Asswipe call?"

"Stop calling him that, it's mean," she says. "But yes. He called. Of course he called. He was all, la la, I'll see you at the Final, looking forward to the Christmas show. Like he forgot everything I said."

"Can I do something?" Ben says. "Should I talk to him?"

"Wow, no, that's the worst thing you could do. No. Eventually I'll say 'fuck off' enough times that he'll get it," she says. She rests her wrists on Ben's shoulders, rolls her eyes, and smiles. "We are just a couple of lame, bitter, broken-up people."

He put his hands on her shoulders. From a distance, they must have looked like they were at a junior high dance. "At least we're in it together," he said.

*

Johnny wants to freeze time. He is at the top of another podium, waving, smiling, for an audience of Russians waving American flags. He has dreamed this. It's his most romantic fantasy.

He's been dreaming in Russian. Drinking strong tea and then standing out in the slow-falling snow dressed head-to-toe in fur. He feels at home here, but to his surprise, he's homesick. He's missed two weeks of Project Runway, and Marina Viacheslavovna is not as good of a bitching partner as Paris. All autumn, while he practiced his butt off, he motivated himself with two weeks in Russia. Lately, he's been motivating himself with sushi and gingerbread lattes.

Backstage after their victory lap, Stéphane says, "Here we are again." 

"I'll let you win the next one," Johnny says.

"You might be the best in the world now," Stéphane says. "Did you realize?"

"Don't curse me," Johnny says. "I'm on to your evil powers."

"If I had evil powers, I would win all the time," Stéphane says.

"I think you're saving them for when it's really important," Johnny says. "You're going to pull 'em out for Worlds."

"I'll turn everyone into chickens," Stephane says.

"Now I'm imagining ice skating chickens," Johnny says. " _Thank_ you."

Stephane beams, full of evil powers.

"So how's your sexy Spanish guy?" Johnny says. 

"Good," Stephane says, and his smile is shyer this time. "How's your ice dancer?"

"I don't have an ice dancer," Johnny says. "That I know of."

"Oh," Stephane said. "In China, I thought, maybe."

"I think that was just in China," Johnny says. "I think he has a girlfriend."

"I think he doesn't," Stephane says. "I think they broke up."

"Who'd you hear that from?" Johnny says.

Stephane shrugs. "A few people."

"People make up all kinds of shit," Johnny says.

"But he hasn't called you?" Stephane says.

"I've been here in Moscow," Johnny says.

"He could send an email," Stephane says.

"Hey, I haven't called him either," Johnny says. He hadn't cared about that or even thought about it, and it bothers him that he's starting to now. 

He takes off his skates and goes into the aisle to sign a few autographs. He hopes that in his fans' eyes, he is purely happy and proud. He wishes that life would stop getting in the way, making him retrace his steps, dissatisfied and full of longing.

He has to go home and watch Bravo and go to Starbucks and call Detroit.

*

Ben sits on the floor of his new apartment, staring at his boxes of stuff. He is too busy training for the Final to unpack. Too busy to go apartment hunting, either, but his mom has taken pity and helped him. Or maybe she just wanted him out of the house. He knows he isn't much fun to be around, all brooding and heartbroken.

He doesn't have any furniture. There's an air mattress and a sleeping bag on the floor of the master bedroom, and the smaller bedroom is piled floor-to-ceiling with boxes of clothes, skating medals, and miscellaneous sporting goods. He is eating off of paper plates and drinking out of a Nalgene bottle. It's sad, but he has a re-choreographed original dance to perfect and charity show logistics to deal with.

Chili crawls into his lap. The poor dog is confused. She misses her mommy and her sister, her house and her backyard. "Just like camping, right?" Ben says, scratching between her ears. Chili looks up at him and whines.

The phone rings, and Ben realizes he has been waiting for it to ring. He hears a deep breath and a shaky, "Hi."

Ben wants to sound smooth and sure of himself, but his "hi" trembles as badly as Johnny's.

"I had this whole clever thing I was going to say to you," Johnny says. "I can't even remember it."

"It's okay," Ben says.

"Okay, never mind, I shouldn't have done this," Johnny says.

"No, no, I'm glad you did," Ben says.

"No, it's _okay_ ," Johnny says. "You obviously haven't thought about me in the past two weeks."

"I have," Ben says. "I _have_." Chili scrambles in his lap and barks like she is trying to back him up. "I just don't know what to say."

Johnny laughs nervously, like he's been bottling up so much that he can't keep it from escaping. 

"What, are you laughing at me now?" Ben says.

"No, no, oh my God, I --"

"Kidding," Ben says. "I'm sorry. I was kidding."

"We're both doing this really badly, aren't we?" Johnny says.

"Yeah, we pretty much suck," Ben says. "But I did -- I did think about you, and hoping you'd do well in Russia so I'd see you in Torino, and I don't know, I'm not used to this."

"Me neither," Johnny says.

"So -- so I guess I'll see you in Italy," Ben says.

"So... yeah," Johnny says. 

"Yeah," Ben says.

"Wow," Johnny says.

"What?" Ben says.

"We sound like we're in ninth grade," Johnny says.

"Wanna go steady?" Ben says.

"Maybe it's a little soon for that," Johnny says. "But I'll see you at the dance."

*

Ben calls a couple of days later. Johnny tries to sound cool, but he's terrible at hiding his emotions. "Don't," Ben says. "I mean, if someone's that excited to hear my voice, I want to know."

"You _want_ to know that I shrieked so loud when I saw your name on my caller ID, my neighbors probably called 911?"

"You mean I'm going to have to explain all this to the cops?" Ben says, putting on some silly mobster voice.

"If you keep calling," Johnny says.

"Then I guess I'll have to find something to say," Ben says.

They talk about skating because it's a subject they both know. Ben and Tanith re-choreographed the first minute of their original dance to raise their scores, and Johnny is starting to believe he is not the whiniest bitch in US figure skating. "And now we have to do these catch-foot twizzles, because everyone else is doing them, and yeah, they're hard, but they're also fucking ugly."

"Welcome to my world," Johnny says. "Do you realize what I have to do to get a level 3 in a step sequence?"

"About what I have to do to get a level one."

"Point taken," Johnny says.

"Sorry, I'm not usually this negative, I'm -"

"Trying to balance a demanding season with sneaking around on your girlfriend?" Johnny says.

"Nope," Ben says. "You're all I have."

"Oh my God," Johnny says. When Stéphane passed on that rumor, he basically ignored it. Ben has been practically married for as long as Johnny has known him. It's part of who Ben _is_ \- the guy with the supportive girlfriend. Johnny is cynical enough about long-term monogamy that he didn't feel too guilty about being Ben's dirty secret. He's more frightened of this situation. He doesn't want to be responsible for mending Ben's heart. "I'm so sorry," Johnny says. "When did you. . .?"

"September," Ben says. "The end of September, but it had been - I mean, it was over before that. I - I thought you knew. I wasn't sure, but you were willing to, you know."

"I thought you had your reasons," Johnny says. "I'm - you were together a long time. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Ben says. "I mean it. I'd - I'd rather be with you."

Johnny wants to hang up the phone and run away, and he wants to jump into Ben's arms. Too far away to do either one, he feels frozen in place.

*

Ben hopes he and Johnny will be on the same flight to Torino, but he has a direct flight from Detroit. He sits on the plane listening to breakup songs, trying to keep his expectations realistic. He's been single for less than three months. He's still mourning, still angry -- still unpacking.

Tanith kicks him awake. She's a terror on planes. She bores easily and likes to talk. She's actually been good about not bitching about Evan too much; she knows Ben is still too sore from Merrie to want to hear it. But her respect for him has made her distant just as they'd started to get close again. Losing Tanith would be too much for Ben to handle. He'd rather listen to her complain. "What's up?" he says.

"I don't know," Tanith says. "Just freaking out."

"Hey, we were _solid_ in practice last week," Ben says.

"Not about skating," Tanith says. "I'm in my Zen skating place. I'm. . . worried about seeing Evan. I'm worried he's going to give me the sad eyes and we're going to get back together again."

"The 'baby, I miss you' tango," Ben says. "I know it well."

"I know," Tanith says. "That's why I wasn't going to ask."

"I like it when you ask," Ben says.

She squints at him. "You really don't."

"I like _that_ you ask," he says.

She smiles: she believes less than the whole truth, but it's close enough. "So how do you do it?" she says. "How do you not go back?"

"You just - the thing is, you just don't," Ben says. "It's like - it's like those cookies shaped like dinosaurs in the grocery store bakery, when you were a little kid. You'd finally get your mom to buy you one, and then when you bit into it, you'd remember they were hard as a rock and tasted like food coloring and cardboard. And one day you grow up enough to realize that you'd rather have, like, animal crackers."

"That analogy makes no sense," Tanith says.

"Yeah, but now when he gives you the sad eyes, you'll think of dinosaur cookies," Ben says.

"You're good to me," Tanith says. "Why are you so good to me?"

"I want to win the Final," Ben says.

"You're way too cheerful," Tanith says.

"Okay, I admit it. the flight attendant's been slipping me mini bottles of bourbon."

"And in a few hours you'll be seeing a certain men's skater who is more of an animal cracker than a dinosaur cookie."

"Maybe a little," Ben says.

"Maybe a lot."

"Not until after the competition," Ben says. "No sex before we skate."

She kisses his cheek. "Welcome back, happy Ben. We've missed you."

*

Johnny gets to Torino two days before most of the other skaters so he won't be able to use jet lag and fatigue as an excuse. With the way his back and his feet are feeling, he has plenty of reasons to fuck up. He spends his first day in Italy sleeping and shopping and his second day busting his ass. Once he gets going, he's too busy skating to think about his new Gianni Barbato shoulder bag, let alone think about boys.

He's wrapping an analgesic patch around his ankle and mentally replaying a particularly nasty triple lutz-triple toe-triple face plant. He never tells people which hotel room he's in, but it's not that hard to find out. He limps to the door to find out who's been lying about their name to the ISU organizer. 

He never imagined it would feel so good to have Ben's arms to fall into. Normal, goofy Ben, who is nice to Johnny because he's nice to everyone. If Ben liked Johnny before now, Johnny wouldn't have been able to tell.

Ben lifts Johnny's chin to kiss him. He's standing in the doorway where anyone could walk by and see them. Ben has to know that the world is divided into the places that are your own and the places that belong to the ISU and USFSA. The places that are your own are the ones where you can do things like kiss boys. Johnny isn't a fan of boundaries, but for the sake of his funding and some measure of freedom, he respects these.

Ben has to know about these boundaries, but he didn't used to have to care. He might have to learn soon, but he's not on anyone's shit list yet. Gay list. Same thing. Johnny grabs Ben's butt with both hands and pulls him into the room. The door clicks shut behind them. Ben laughs and kisses Johnny harder, his lips wet and strong. "No sex before the competition," Ben says. "I really just wanted to say hi."

"Hi," Johnny says.

"I guess you can't say hi in the hallway," Ben says. "I mean, we can't."

"Not with tongue," Johnny says.

"I really wasn't planning on it," Ben says. "Until I saw you. I was just going to say hi."

"And then the violins swelled and the screen went all soft-focus?" Johnny says.

"Exactly like that," Ben says. Johnny still has his hands on Ben's butt. Ben shimmies up closer to Johnny, puts his arms around Johnny's shoulders, and kisses him gently.

"You were right the first time," Johnny says. "It would be stupid to have sex before the competition." He circles his hips, rubbing up against Ben, then winces as pain shoots through his back. His voice strains as he adds, "But we can make out."

"Hey, are you okay?" Ben says. "Did you hurt yourself?"

"I had a rough practice," Johnny says. "All my old injuries are flaring up."

Ben pulls away. "Am I in the way? Should I go?"

"No, if you leave, I'll just dwell on them," Johnny says.

"Can't win if you dwell," Ben says.

Johnny clears the bandages and other detritus off of the bed. Ben settles into his arms, and they chat like they are on the phone, a thousand miles apart. If there's one thing Johnny doesn't feel with Ben, it's a deep psychological connection, like they've known each other their whole lives. Maybe it's because they actually _have_ known each other half their lives. Johnny is pretty sure they'll get there once they get more used to each other, once they are less damaged and more certain. Or they won't, and they'll break up, but Johnny is trying not to dwell on his pain.

"Mind if I turn the TV on?" Ben says when it has gotten quiet and awkward. "I just like seeing what's on in other countries."

"Go ahead," Johnny says. It's one of his own hotel-room hobbies. He loves Chinese nature shows and the totally censored Russian news. In Japan, he once watched a sketch comedy show where old ladies chased a guy around with giant, phallic daikon radishes. 

Italian TV isn't quite that exciting. Ben settles for a dubbed episode of _The Simpsons_ and shrugs. "I always end up watching cartoons."

"I've seen this one," Johnny says. "It's the one where they build a monorail and burst into song."

"I love this one," Ben says. "I have a thing for musicals." He squeezes Johnny close and kisses him. "I probably should have known all along."

Johnny starts the kiss up again, licking between Ben's lips to part them, working his tongue like he's fighting his way in. Ben rolls over and puts his hand on Johnny's chest, seeming to suspend himself for a moment before sinking his tongue back into Johnny's mouth. Ben kisses like nobody exists except him and Johnny. No bursitis and no back pain, no TV noise, no Grand Prix Final, just the two of them kissing.

*

Nobody wins anything. It was looking good after the original dance, but Ben and Tanith's lead was microscopic. In the free dance, they weren't perfect, and the Russians were. This season is going to come down to perfection, and they've fallen short.

Ben is trying to be polite, since silver is better than fourth. But Johnny says, "Bitch away. It sucks to lose."

"That serpentine lift was _not_ a fucking level three," Ben says. "It was a bullshit technical call." He takes a deep breath. He doesn't want to be the kind of athlete who blames everything on the officials, and as Tanith would be quick to remind him, a level four on that lift wouldn't have been enough for them to win. "Of course, if we'd done the rest of the program better, it wouldn't have mattered."

Johnny kisses Ben's cheek. "Wanna go out tonight anyway and celebrate our defeat?"

"Just us?" Ben says. "Isn't that how you get sternly-worded letters from the ISU?"

"We could go with people," Johnny says. "I'll have to ask around, but I bet Stéphane and his boyfriend are looking for a way to avoid a sternly-worded letter."

"Sure," Ben says.

"Don't sound so excited," Johnny says.

"I am. I want to go," Ben says. "It's just. . . more your friends than mine."

"So bring some of yours."

"Most of mine aren't here," Ben says. "I mean, Scott, but half of Ilderton, Ontario, is here with him. And you and Tanith are --"

"Fine. Completely fine," Johnny says. "Trying to be fine. She should - she should come. It would help us be more fine."

"I'll ask," Ben says.

"I really - I really want to be fine. With her. Now that I don't have a reason _not_ to be."

"You know what?" Ben says. "That's how I'll put it to her. It'll keep her away from Asswipe."

Johnny almost doubles over laughing.

"That's all Meryl and Brooke," Ben says. "Asswipe Fucknugget, that's his new name."

"Well, it sure fucking is _now_ ," Johnny says.

Three hours later, they are at a restaurant in downtown Torino with Stephane, Stephane's flamenco dancer boyfriend, Tanith, Caro Kostner, Daisuke Takahashi, Oksana Domnina, and Jana Khokhlova. So, basically, six near-strangers, his boyfriend who he's not allowed to touch, and Tanith. The presence of the Russian girls is probably part of Johnny's war against cliques. The Cold War is alive and well in ice dance, and Ben hopes that being surrounded by rivals won't traumatize Tanith so much that she'll go running back to Evan.

Ben tries to cling to Tanith, but everyone is shuffling around the table. He ends up between one of the Russians and Stéphane's boyfriend, Antonio, who took the train from Madrid so he could watch Stéphane win. Antonio seems to have made an effort to sit next to Ben, whose ability to speak Spanish he has sorely overestimated. But he's also a professional flamenco dancer, so he's interested in Ben's guitar playing. He seems shy and relieved to have found someone he can have a conversation with. Ben doesn't really know who Stéphane's friends are, but he can imagine Antonio doesn't fit in with them.

Antonio tells Ben about how he and Stéphane met, about traveling with him to Japan and doing shows with him all over Europe, how their relationship has changed his life and not. "They are difficult, the long distances, no?" Antonio says. "To want someone embracing you, but he is too far away."

"I wouldn't know yet," Ben says. "We've only been together about a month.'

Antonio laughs. "I'm sorry. We hadn't met before. I heard you have a boyfriend, and I, um, assumed you had him forever."

"No, it's new," Ben says. "It's really new."

Antonio leans closer. "I understand," he says. "I was straight before Stéph. Or I thought so." He smiles and pats Ben's arm. "You won't change. Who you are."

"Maybe I want to change," Ben says.

*

It has been a strange evening for Johnny. He hoped for a quiet double date, but it's impossible to go out for dinner after a competition without picking up a big group. Ben didn't want to leave Tanith stranded. Stéph promised Caro she could come, and Caro invited Daisuke. Then, at the last minute, Oksana and Jana stopped Johnny in the hall to ask if he was doing anything fun, and it seemed mean to lie.

Johnny ends up sitting all the way on the other side of the table from Ben. He reaches his arm across and exaggerates a sniffle; Ben sticks out his lower lip and wipes away an invisible tear. But it would have been rude to make the entire group rearrange themselves.

So he spends his evening translating between the Russian girls and Tanith. At first, it's easy, just pleasantries, but damned if they don't hit it off. Why wouldn't they? They're all fun girls, smart - people he likes. He helps them trade horror stories about getting dropped on the ice. It gives him something to think about other than himself.

As they walk back to the hotel, Tanith kisses him on the cheek and says, "Thanks, Tink."

"For the Christmas show?" Johnny says. "Hey, it's an excuse to see Ben. And cure cancer."

"Well, for that," Tanith says. "But mostly, like - I'd - certain people had started me thinking that my competitors were my enemies. And I - I never wanted to be like that."

"It wasn't part of some master plan," Johnny says.

"Right, you just randomly invited them for no reason," Tanith says.

"They asked what I was doing tonight," Johnny says. "I told them you and Ben would be there, and they said they didn't care."

"You are _shockingly_ free of ulterior motives, Tink."

"I'm over that," Johnny says. "It's too much work. Now, I'm just nice to people who are nice to me, and I don't worry about what they think of each other."

She kisses his cheek again. He's forgotten how affectionate she is with her friends, how it used to put him off but made him feel loved at the same time. "Anyone who isn't nice to you is an idiot."

"It sounds like you're incriminating yourself," Johnny says.

"I totally am," Tanith says. She looks like she's going to hug him, but the words are enough. She nods over at Ben, who's talking to Stéph and Stéph's boyfriend. "Go get laid. Go get _him_ laid."

Johnny blows her a kiss. She and Sasha are the only people who still call him Tinkerbelle. It reminds him of someone he isn't anymore, who he kind of wishes he could still be.

Ben doesn't seem too disappointed to be pulled away from his conversation. Both men air-kiss Ben to say good night. It's a subtle gesture, part of the code: they've accepted him. Not one of the straight ones. Johnny feels guilty for dragging Ben into this world of double meanings. But from what Ben has said, what he keeps saying, there's no more of a choice for him than there is for Johnny.

They go to Ben's room, which is kind of a mess. Can Johnny stand to date a messy person? Ben is kissing him and grabbing at him. It's both a good thing and a bad thing that they couldn't sit together, and for the same reason: Johnny probably would have gotten a hand job under the table. Being wanted makes Johnny skeptical.

Johnny lets Ben lead him to the bed, and it's all great until Ben decides to climb on top of him. "Ow," Johnny says.

"Sorry?" Ben says.

"I guess I fell harder than I thought," Johnny says.

"Are you okay?" Ben says.

"Yeah, I just have a big bruise on my butt," Johnny says.

"Do you - do you. . . want to be on top or something?" Ben says.

"No, that would. . ." It would take them forever and leave them both with sore butts. That would make Ben laugh, but it isn't what Johnny wants to say. It isn't what Ben wants to hear. "Go down on me?"

Ben seems happy to be given an instruction he can work with. Somebody's been giving him pointers in anticipation of tonight. His mouth is hot and slick, all over Johnny's dick like he wants him, wants this, has been thinking about it since Harbin. Like they're right on the same page. Johnny can't get off just on being wanted, but that and Ben's tongue thick and insistent, Ben's hands on his balls and stroking the base of his dick, that'll do it. Johnny arches his back until he feels a twinge, pushing hi hips up and making Ben take him in deeper. That might not be fair, but his body is pleading for it. Ben is right there with him, Ben and his amazing tongue, and Johnny would luxuriate in it longer but his starved body gets ahead of him. He comes fast, loud and sighing.

Ben is grinning and throwing away the condom, humming to himself. Johnny rolls onto his stomach to stretch out his back. The encore of Ben's warm breath grazes his neck. "It kind of looks like Australia," Ben says.

"What?" Johnny says.

"The big bruise on your ass," Ben says. He traces a continent on the sore side of Johnny's butt. "You have one swollen, purple butt cheek." He kisses the other side, the one Johnny didn't fall on twice. "And one perfect, beautiful butt cheek."

"You really want inside my ass, don't you?" Johnny says.

"Well, it's right there looking at me," Ben says.

"All purple and sad," Johnny says.

Ben runs his hand down Johnny's back and kisses his neck. "I don't want any part of you to be sad."

"Just be gentle," Johnny says. "Here, I'll lie on my side. The pretty side. Sorry."

"You don't have an ugly side," Ben says, spooning up to Johnny. He still has his pants on, and Johnny can feel, despite them, how hard he is.

"You should get to know me better," Johnny says.

"Are you offering?" Ben says.

"Weren't you going to fuck me?" Johnny says.

"If that's what you want," Ben says.

"Please," Johnny says, grinding backward against him. Still lying down, still pressed close against Johnny, Ben takes his clothes off. He sucks gently on Johnny's neck until Johnny's dick starts to wake up again. Ben's hands wander down from Johnny's nipples to his dick. Johnny keens and purrs, impatient, and lifts his leg a little so Ben can get inside him more easily. Ben gets the message, and it feels so good to be full of him, the pleasure steady and hot in his stomach. He eased into Ben's arms, lulled by the rhythm of Ben's moans and the rise and swell of ecstasy. Ben comes, his voice heavy and sweet.

As Ben is adding to the condom graveyard in the wastebasket, Johnny says, "I might need another blow job."

"It's like a vicious cycle with you, isn't it?" Ben says.

"You don't have to," Johnny says. "Never mind."

Ben curls up with him, facing him this time. "You're lucky you have a bruise shaped like Australia on your butt," he says. "And big, sad eyes. And that I really, really like you."

"Luckiest about the last one," Johnny says.

*

Chili is madly in love with Johnny. Johnny has come in a day early for the Christmas charity show so he can spend time with Ben. He walks into Ben's apartment and puts his bags down, and the dog jumps on him with all her stumpy-legged might, bathing him in kisses. "Hey, that's my job," Ben says.

"You'll have your chance," Johnny says. He kneels down so he can scratch Chili's head with both hands and get her all riled up. "I'm sucking up."

"You don't have to," Ben says. "She's a slut. She loves everybody."

"She's a good girl," Johnny says, rubbing Chili's belly. "Who's your favorite men's skater, girl? Who loves me and hates the ISU? That's a good puppy."

"Come on, I have to take her out before she leaves her opinion of the ISU all over the floor," Ben says.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Johnny says.

"You don't have to," Ben says. "It's about ten degrees out. You can get settled, take a shower, whatever."

"I love dogs. I missed you. We can take a shower together. Let's go for a walk."

Ben gets out Chili's leash and sweater. She bounces and yips with excitement. "Maybe I wanted you to be all warm and clean and naked when I got home," Ben says.

"I can do that, too," Johnny says.

"No, my cover's blown," Ben says. "Come with."

"As long as there's a bed waiting for me when I come back," Johnny says.

"Hey, I told you I got a bed before I even left for Torino," Ben says. 

Johnny puts one hand on his hip and motions with the other like he's shooing Ben away.

"I bought the sheets, like, three days ago, and yes, they are actually on the bed," Ben says.

"Okay," Johnny says. "Then let's go."

Walking with Johnny makes Chili completely hyper. She keeps running around in circles, sniffing at things she'd normally ignore. She's giving Johnny a tour of her new neighborhood.

"God, she's making me miss my boys," Johnny says.

"They didn't move with you to New Jersey?" 

"No, they're still down in Delaware with my parents," Johnny says. "I didn't want to have too many distractions when I first moved. But now missing them's the bigger distraction. Like, we always had dogs, it's weird to live without them. It's too quiet. I'm bringing Vanya back with me when I drive home after Christmas. We'll see how it goes." He laughs to himself. "'Home.' New _Jersey_."

"It'll feel more like home when the dog's there," Ben says.

"I hope so," Johnny says.

Chili finds a suitable tree and lifts her leg. "I almost didn't get to take her with me," Ben says.

"Your ex wanted to keep her?" Johnny says, snarling a little.

"When I left, I - I basically walked out with the clothes on my back," Ben says. "We had a fight, I said I needed some time to think, I got in the car and drove to my parents' house. I, I asked Mer not to be home when I came to get my things, and I - I was loading stuff into my car and Chili followed me to the driveway, barking and whining. I asked her if she wanted to go for a ride, and she jumped on me and wagged her tail. She was probably just glad to see me, but I grabbed her leash and her dish and just. . . took her with. I lied and told my parents that Mer said I should take her. It was a total dick move, one of the worst things I've ever done. Mer _screamed_ on the phone. But I - I let Mer have everything. The house, the furniture, all that stuff. Chili was the only thing I wasn't willing to give up."

Chili finishes her business and runs right to Johnny. So much for loyalty. "You did what you had to do," Johnny says. "She's a sweet girl."

They head home, trading dog stories. After a block or two, Johnny slips his hand into Ben's. One of those things he does to get a reaction. Ben walked the rest of the way home with Chili's leash in one hand and Johnny's hand in the other. With his hands full.


End file.
